


The Strength Needed

by Keyblader41996



Category: Final Fantasy XII
Genre: Brothers, Gen, Murder, Reflection, Thinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 18:39:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8764549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keyblader41996/pseuds/Keyblader41996
Summary: Vayne pauses for a moment to reflect on the deaths of his brothers.





	

_The most shocking thing about it was just how easy it was. Painless. Larsa Ferrinas Solidor made it the most difficult._

_I often reflect on the day Gramis told me, right in front of the Senate, of the "treachery" of my brothers. How they were plotting against my father directly. Raising uncertainty and striking the match of uprising. How they had to be "dealt with" before they gained any military might behind them. He didn't even look sad. Not even troubled._

_Not even concerned. They were a fleeting matter to him. I was the one he wanted to see succeed. The others were only in my way._

_I was always the closest to my father. Our political views tended to coincide: the idea that the iron fist was a better subjugation and ruling tool than the iron olive branch. The concept of development for the sake of power and rule was shared by the two of us._

_My brothers didn't oppose those views by any means but both my father and I saw the holes in their more peaceful ruling patters. They left too much to be desired from the people, basing their rule on a trust and respect that the citizens just weren't, and still aren't willing to give. Rebellion would have been imminent the moment the people saw what they would have been free to do._

_We couldn't let that happen to Arcadia. She was too strong for that. My father and his predecessors before worked far too hard to build her to what she was today, the world power she'd grown to be. It couldn't all be undone in the course of one or two men's rule._

_It was for the good of the Empire._

_He made me believe it. It was true. I was best suited to carry on the legacy and absolution of House Solidor. And I had to remove the opposition that threatened my Empire._

_I understood in that instant why he wasn't sad or upset. Neither was I._

_I also wasn't shocked by the fact that I could do it. No, it was necessary. The shocking part was how easy it was, even after the fact._

_The smooth tip of my hand over my eldest brother's cup of wine. No delay. No hesitation. For the Empire._

_His face the moment he swallowed a nethecite-infused poison. He started choking immediately; he made this terrible gurgling noise, wine dribbled down the front of his chin, and his hands flew to his throat. He stood up fast, toppling his Arcadian oak chair to the floor, and thrashed wildly. All that was heard from his throat after that was hissing. The nethecite burned and eroded away his throat. The chair hitting the floor startled Larsa and he burst into tears while my second eldest brother jumped from his own chair and went to the eldest's aid. But he was already on the floor, dead. My father and I feigned anger. Yelled at the guards to get back and not touch my brother until we found who was responsible. We ordered Larsa's wet nurse to take the poor child from the room. In the end we blamed the cook. Had the man executed. Mourned with my father and brother. Larsa was just a baby- too young to understand._

_Even if I wanted to lament for my brother, I could not. He was a traitor to the Empire. A rightful usurper. By necessity he was gone. But that still left my other brother. The second eldest._

_It was a while, years, in fact, before I carried out his sentence. Gramis and I never spoke of it; such a thing was far too risky if it were overheard, and we wanted to keep the Senate in the dark in case some of them turned yellow at the last minute. When I finally did act I was spurred forward by the fits of raging coughs that then wracked my father. I needed to act soon, before he was too ill to settle his own affairs._

_I suspected my brother knew what was coming. Larsa was older by then, about five or six years old. My brother knew of my vast affection for Larsa, and began spending as much time with him as was humanly possible. I absolutely adored Larsa, and still do. He was the one pure thing about House Solidor. It amazed me time and time again how a child so innocent and naive could grow to thrive from such treachery around him. My brother also knew this, and tried to grow attached to Larsa. Not even out of love. Out of protection. He thought I wouldn't dare harm him for fear of harming Larsa. But I knew better._

_The day I ended his life was one of the few times I caught him alone, without the company of the littlest Solidor. But I still took advantage of his and Larsa's relationship. I saw my brother sneak around the corner of the hallway to his chambers, no doubt trying to hide from me based on the wide-eyed backwards glance he cast over his shoulder. I casually followed him, looking inconspicuous to the servants and staff. But when I got to his door, it was bolted and locked. Paranoia had taken hold of him._

_I stood out in the hallway for another quarter of an hour with my ear to the door, listening to him breathing right on the other side of the door. Until, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a tiny shape round the corner and come barreling towards me. Larsa. He careened into my legs, wrapping his arms around them and staggering us both._

_"Ah! My dear Larsa," I said, a bit overly loud for my brother to hear. "And what are you up to today? No good, no doubt!" I tickled him, and he squealed and tried to repay the favor, giggling all the while._

_"No, brother!" he said between attempts, "We're-playing hi. . . hide and SEEK!"_

_His escort caught up with him and came around the bend then, but I held up a hand and halted them. "Hide and seek?"_

_"Play with me, brother!"_

_With a glance and a gesture I sent away his entourage. "How could I refuse? But first, why don't we ask our elder brother to play as well?"_

_He ran happily to the door and knocked lightly over and over, calling my brother's name, urging him to come play with him and "Brother Vayne." Finally he came out, but wouldn't so much as look at me. Before Larsa could speak I said I would seek. But I had Larsa set up boundaries to contain my quarry._

_Why he didn't escape our game in fear of his life is beyond me. His fear of hurting the innocent and lovable Larsa Ferrinas Solidor backfired on him, I think. He tried to run when he saw me. I chased him and chased him. Subtly at first, but after a while I became frustrated with how long it was taking._

_Finally I did escape the boundaries to cut him off and corner him near the linen storage rooms. We struggled briefly, but I was studied in basic combat at that time and easily ended up behind him. I took a cord from one of the rolled towels and slipped it over his head, snapping it tight around his throat. His struggles shifted from angry to desperate. He tried to reach around behind to get at me, and slip his fingers between the cord and his neck. He only succeeded in tiring himself out. After what I'm sure was hours he slumped in front of me._

_I made sure to hold the string tighter still for a minute or so longer, then carefully threw the string in the servant's quarters._

_When I found Larsa, and together we 'looked for brother', I ensured we passed as many servants as possible to protect our alibi. As we searched the corridors and room a single scream rocketed through the entire palace._

_I barely remember how I reacted. I'm sure I played at ignorance and hostility and sadness. But looking back it is fleeting. A second-nature ability by that point, and not deemed prevalent enough to be kept by my memory._

_The next thing I remember is sitting Larsa on my lap to tell him that there'd be no more hide and seek with brother any more. Or anything else. For the first time, remorse, fear, guilt, shock, anger all passed through me. Larsa's eyes welled up with tears and his tiny voice said, "He'll not be back? Ever?" I shook my head no. He said, "Has he gone to be an Emperor in the sky?"_

_I couldn't even respond. All of the emotions of both ordeals gripped my heart and seized my throat like I seized theirs twice, and the two of us cried together, with a few inputs from him along the lines of, "He's in a better place, right? They say Heaven is a good place."_

_His grasp and acceptance of death and loss hurt me even more. He was clinging to the very person that brought him that loss and he had no idea. Suddenly, I hated Larsa for doing that to me. For making me feel this way. All was fine until I had to confront Larsa about it. It was Larsa's fault. Larsa made it hard._

_"It's alright, I suppose," Larsa sniffed after a while. "Heaven needs a good Emperor like brother."_

_He never found out, and he never doubted me. Never. Not once._

_And I swore to be the best for him. To never let him doubt me._

_Until. . ._

"And if I am?" I ask him, turning towards him. "You'd best find the strength needed to correct me, then."

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to leave a comment if you have time!


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